


Wings

by emma_enchanted



Category: The Penderwicks Series - Jeanne Birdsall
Genre: Gen, is it bad if you make yourself cry, oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_enchanted/pseuds/emma_enchanted
Summary: Batty’s relationship with her wings over the years.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been having real Penderwick cravings lately so this is how I’m helping myself (along with rereading the books for the millionth time 😁). I hope you like it!

Batty couldn’t stop thinking they were there.

Every morning she would wake bright and early, pulled from sleep by the sounds of her older sisters, and run straight for the dresser. It was always empty, and it would always frighten her.

Only after several moments of panic would she remember that they hadn’t been there for weeks.

She never let her sisters see it. Her emotions would always be contained in her room, and she would emerge perfectly happy and normal. The last thing she wanted was for Skye to call her a baby.

She didn’t regret it. Jeffrey needed the comfort, the memories, more than she did. But noble intentions didn’t make her any less of a four-year-old girl who wanted her security blanket.

————

The wedding reception was still raging in the Arundel gardens when she snuck back to the mansion. She tiptoed up the stairs, paranoid that someone would hear her, even from the lawn.

A step into Jeffrey’s room and she could relax. Like the rest of the place it was old, dusty, and empty, but she felt safe. She would never admit it to anyone, especially not her sisters, but Mrs. Tifton lurked through the halls of this house. A look at anything overly fancy or golden and she would remember that fateful day when she had hid behind the couch while that woman screamed things that made her blood run cold.

The terror of it wouldn’t leave her here, and that was why she came to Jeffrey’s room.

She knew where they were. She went to see them more often than she would admit. She couldn’t believe they still existed.

Reaching out into a mess of childhood items, she grabbed hold of them.

They looked the same as she remembered. The orange and black patterns that once resembled that of a monarch butterfly, but now were torn and dusted from time, and from Skye having shoved her under that gate.

Jeffrey had showed them to her out of sentimentality, but Batty clung to them, as one last lifeline to the way things used to be.

When she gathered her things the next morning, she went up to see them one last time. Without knowing why, she took them, packing them safely under a layer of clothes.

**********

They sat in her college dorm for weeks. She took them out only when she was alone, to think and remember.

She hadn’t thought anyone would notice, which is why Jeffrey’s call was such a shock. She hadn’t picked up, so he left a voicemail.

“Batty, I was clearing my old stuff out of my room at Arundel and I... I couldn’t find your wings. I just thought you should know. I’m sorry.”

The ending click echoed in her ears. She didn’t know how to tell him, and she didn’t know how she could not tell him, because she couldn’t let him be filled with guilt for something that wasn’t his fault.

**********

She pulled them out a few days later, still reminded of Jeffrey’s call. She hadn’t responded. She didn’t know what to say.

It was while she was staring at them, pondering, that there was a knock. Sighing, she stuffed the wings in the tiny closet and unlocked the door.

Hair rumpled, eyes smiling, there was Jeffrey.

She slammed the door before he could say a word. She wasn’t ready for this. Pressing her back against the door, her breaths turned ragged and afraid. Which was ridiculous, and she knew it.

“Batty? Is everything ok?”

She knew that if he thought she was in danger, or she was avoiding him, he would shove his way in, and she definitely couldn’t hold him off.

But instead of trying to face him, she skittered into her closet and buried herself among the mess.

“Batty?”

She heard the door creak open. His footsteps patted across the floor. She hardly dared to breathe. Then the closet door was opening and he was staring down at her.

Her mind whizzed from deja vu. She’d been ten, almost eleven, and she was hiding in her closet. He’d showed up out of the blue, and she couldn’t talk to him, because there was nothing to talk about anymore.

She’d told him to go away, and instead he’d opened the closet door to find her, wallowing in her misery.

The memory was just another piece of her already toppling tower. She bit her lip and pushed back on the tears in her eyes.

She would not cry. It was silly. All this for a pair of weather-worn butterfly wings. But she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet.

“Oh, Batty...”

She didn’t need to look at him to know that he’d seen them. Her strength failed and the tears leaked out. She didn’t even notice as he crawled in to sit beside her, taking care not to damage them and instead putting them in her arms.

————

Rosalind’s children were growing fast. At ages five and two, they were already the pride of the Penderwick family.

“Auntie Batty!”

Two-year-old Eliza came running at her as fast as she could on her short legs. Batty mustered all the strength in her to sweep the toddler off her feet, making Eliza squeal in exhilaration.

Batty would never admit to favorites, but she not-so-secretly adored this girl. Maybe it was the curly brown hair, the eyes that had surprised everyone by matching Skye’s exactly. Maybe it was the way she lit up a room with her cheer and charm. But Batty knew that at least some part of it was the name.

Because, like Batty herself, Eliza was really Elizabeth, and was destined never to be called as such. There could be a million Elizabeth Penderwicks, but there would only ever be one. Just as Batty had always been Batty, Eliza would always be Eliza.

And because of that, Batty made a decision.

The first person she’d told was Jeffrey. She knew he’d understand. He’d only nodded and hugged her tightly, knowing she was making the right choice, and knowing it hadn’t been easy.

“Hello, little girl!” Batty cooed over her niece. “I have a surprise for you!”

“I love surprises,” Eliza replied, her tongue tripping over the words.

Batty set the girl down and reached for the bag she’d brought with her. She gently pulled them out and held them up.

The wings were ratty and old, but they still held a spark of something wonderful, a piece of Batty’s soul that would always stay with them even when they’d been ripped to shreds.

Eliza could see it. She clapped her hands and gasped. “Can I try them?”

Batty helped her slide her arms through the straps. Suddenly she saw something— a faint memory of being helped into these wings for the first time.

_“Are you ready to fly, Battikins?”_

_“Yes, Daddy!”_

She shook the memory away. Now Eliza was wearing them, nearly jumping up and down for joy.

“You look like a beautiful butterfly,” Batty told her, planting a kiss at the top of her head. “Now go fly away!”

Eliza toddled through the backyard, the wings flapping with the wind. “I can fly!” Batty smiled and watched as the sparkles on the rims glinted in the sunlight.

_“Fly away, Battikins! Fly away!”_

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this isn’t confusing, but let me know if it is.


End file.
